


The Seventh Son: Act Three - Blanziflor Et Helena, Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi

by strixus



Series: The Book of Dreams [8]
Category: Gundam Wing, The Endless
Genre: Crossover, Non-sexual Non-Con, Other, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-27
Updated: 2009-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-05 08:55:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strixus/pseuds/strixus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ave formosissima, Hail, most beautiful one,<br/>gemma pretiosa, precious jewel,<br/>ave decus virginum, Hail, pride among virgins,<br/>virgo gloriosa glorious virgin,<br/>ave mundi luminar, Hail. light of the world,<br/>ave mundi rosa, Hail, rose of the world,<br/>Blanziflor et Helena, Blanchefleur and Helen,<br/>Venus generosa! noble Venus!</p></blockquote>





	1. Ave formosissima - The Birth of Devotion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ave formosissima, Hail, most beautiful one,  
> gemma pretiosa, precious jewel,  
> ave decus virginum, Hail, pride among virgins,  
> virgo gloriosa glorious virgin,  
> ave mundi luminar, Hail. light of the world,  
> ave mundi rosa, Hail, rose of the world,  
> Blanziflor et Helena, Blanchefleur and Helen,  
> Venus generosa! noble Venus!

The shift out of the gray was as unnoticeable as the break of dawn on a fog choked day. Duo noticed the gray had become flecked with more frequent spots of color, and as soon as he noticed it, the color threatened to overwhelm him. It was like being drowned in a bag of brightly colored plastic flakes. Death remained beside him, her hand on his arm a guiding beacon against the torrent of sensation.

"Where are we?" He asked.

"Delirium's realm, her world. Stay close, or you will be lost in it." Death's voice was serious, concerned, and different from how Duo had ever head it.

Duo simply nodded. He was lost, he felt, completely beyond his understanding of the situation. He was dead, he was in a world of madness, and he was facing forces beyond his understanding. The shock and confusion was enough to keep him silent, and to keep his usual anger at the unknown in check. Hours could have passed, or only minutes, or perhaps it was years: Duo had no way of knowing, no sense of the passage of time. He had no sense of fatigue, no idea of the distance they traveled. There were no landmarks, no features of any sort - only the shifting seas of color and light.

Distance was meaningless here, Duo realized, as he head the sound of a dog barking from a great deal away. There was no single solid plain, no real laws of physics, not even a general suggestion of such things. The dog was running across what seemed empty space, across the perspective-less space of shifting color, a white dot that was simultaneously miles away and within a stone's throw.

The dog, as it became apparent a few timeless moments later, was calling out to them in a panicked voice. "She's by the Sun Dial! Something is happening to her, she needs your help!"

Death stopped short, and bent down to the dog. "Barnabas, its OK. We're here now. Del will be fine, just take us to her."

Nervously, the dog looked up and sniffed Duo's naked foot with a cold nose. "Its dead," the dog said, looking up with amber eyes.

"You're no beauty champion yourself, dog." Duo snapped back.

"Barnabas, please, take us to Del."

With a nod, the dog turned, and began loping across the empty space, muttering to its self about how much it hated a place where the laws of physics were only a suggestion. Duo and Death followed, close behind, until in the strange lack of perspective way, a sundial appeared.

The sundial was white marble, its surface stained and cracked, pitted with age, its brass dial green with oxidation. Curled at its base was a bedraggled figure, a young teenage girl in battered clothing, her knees drawn up to her chest with her head resting on her knees. She looked up at the approaching trio with disturbing, mismatched green and blue eyes. The eyes moved across them emptily, falling finally on Barnabas, who sat down beside her.

"Good doggy," the girl said quietly.

Death got down on her knees next to the young girl, putting her hand on the shoulder of the battered leather jacket. "Del, its OK. I'm here now. Everything will be fine now." Death glanced up at Duo, and then looked back at Delirium. "Del, I brought a friend with me to stay with you. He and I are going to stay here with you for a while."

Delirium looked up at Duo with the mismatched eyes, focusing on him for a moment before her gaze lost its force again. "Pretty wings," she said, and a lock of hair near her forehead became a butterfly with bat wings. Barnabas whined, and looked forlorn as the strange creature landed on his ear.

"Del, you know what's going on?" Death motioned Duo to come sit beside her. Duo sat, folding himself against the invisible ground. "Del?" Death squeezed her shoulder.

"Hu? Oh, yeah. I'm growing again, aren't I?" She stared off into space, talking to nothing. "This is like last time, but backwards. I'm coming back together, aren't I?"

"Yes, Del, you're growing up." Death's voice was calm.

"That's what I thought." Delirium smiled emptily, closed her eyes, and laid down her head on her knees.

The ground under Duo's bare legs was suddenly cold, distracting him. Where once there had been empty space, filled with colors, there was now a polished stone floor. The floor was flowing outward from the sundial, across the empty plain. The colors were fading, their ever shifting patterns smoothing out, and shapes were beginning to extrude themselves from the formlessness. The world was changing, and so was Delirium. The wild shock of brightly colored hair was smoothing, growing, and turning a uniform shade of platinum blond as it grew. The skin and bones frame of her body was maturing, the death pale skin smoothing and gaining a healthy glow, and her ragged clothes turning colorless and formless.

Delirium gave a small whimper, her whole body flinching suddenly as though in great pain, accompanied by a spasm of white throughout the slowing swirl of color. Death looked at Duo, her eyes filled with inexpressible worry. Duo, more out of a lack of anything else to do to help, reached out a hand and put it on the trembling small hand that death griped the knee beneath it. The skin was cold and clammy to the touch, but a burning fever seemed to rage beneath the surface. Delirium whimpered again, and in her flinch, and with crushing force her small hand wrapped its self around Duo's, and Duo gasped in pain. Delirium turned her head up to look at him, and...

There was no sound, no light, no color, but nor was there the absence of any of those things. All that existed was a silent, formless joy that filled the heart to bursting. And in that shapeless no-place, a conversation beyond words took place.

("I went walking in the night place. And I wasn't looking for anything, but I found things. I found a blue pebble, and some fox fur, and a lost star....")

«"What else did you find?"»

("I found a word, a very special word. I found a word that means that sort of feeling you get when you want to walk fast, and dance, and sing, but have to keep walking slow.")

/silence/

("See?")

...both of her eyes were blue, flecked with moving shards of silver. Her face was now framed with the smooth, platinum blond tresses of hair that had been growing before, a serene smile gracing her face. The skin of her hand was now smooth and warm to the touch, and her fingers were loosely intertwined with Duo's hand.

"Duo?" The voice was soft, soothing, almost lyrical. The girl - no woman - who had been Delirium, was now on her knees, still holding Duo's hand. "Duo, thank you. I found myself in you." She rose from her knees effortlessly, her white dress unfolding elegantly, leading Duo to his feet. Death was gone, no where to be found in the transformed landscape.

"I am Devotion," She said, turning from him, "and I will bring a new age into the universe."

Where there had been the absence of perspective or shape, form and shape now existed in profusion. Gothic stone pillars rose from the stone tile floor like roots of great trees. It was only on looking up that the stone pillars revealed themselves to be that exact thing: from the cold stone roots to midway up the trunk, the trees were carved stone, above that, they were living trees. Sunlight shone down through the branches, casting elegant shadows onto the floor, mixing with the colored light that filtered through the stained glass windows that filled the walls. The only thing that remained from before was the sun dial, still pitted and cracked, just in front of where the high alter rose from the floor.

"Duo, thank you, you have done what needed to be done. But you have to go now - someone needs you." Duo nodded, and turned to walk down the long isle of was resolving its self into a surrealistic cathedral. His bare feet barely made a sound on the cold stone floor as he walked, and the distance from the altar to the far door was unnoticeable. At the end of the isle, in the shadows of the doorway, Death was waiting for him.

"Go, Duo. I've kept you long enough. You will have to fight to retake your body from Zephiruxs, so be prepared. But I think there will be someone to guide your way." And with that she was gone, vanished back into the shadows. Duo walked towards the door, putting his hand on the smooth, dark wood to push it open. Beyond the door there was...

Duo screamed, the touch of the ethereal tentacles throughout his body threatening to drive him mad, and he saw the double barreled beam cannon of the Zero discharge into the body of the colony, shattering the fragile bubble of life. The cold claws of vacuum began ripping the bulkheads asunder with the rush of air, and his mind filled with a scream not his own.  
Hilde's voice, screaming.

And the image was gone, the touch of the tentacles gone, all that was left was the rubble of a dozen mobile dolls, and the observation ship.

"You are stronger than you look." The multi-voice of Zephiruxs said softly into Duo's ear. "It is too bad you are not who I was meant for. You have a date with a different destiny."

Duo shivered. "I already knew that, demon," he said softly, then closed his eyes, and passed out cold.


	2. O Fortuna -  Reprise, Part One - To Summon the Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O Fortuna, O Fortune,  
> velut luna like the moon  
> statu variabilis you are changeable,  
> semper crescis ever waxing  
> aut decrescis; and waning;  
> vita detestabilis hateful life  
> nunc obdurat first oppresses  
> et tunc curat and then soothes  
> ludo mentis aciem, as fancy takes it;  
> egestatem, poverty  
> potestatem and power  
> dissolvit ut glaciem. it melts them like ice.

It had taken less than the two days DeWitt had predicted to convert the courtyard space of the house to its new purpose. Three concentric circles of head high iron candlesticks were set up around the unpainted mettle hulk of the Gundam, which sat behind a makeshift altar. The altar was, in fact, the table from the great hall, covered in one of the blood red velvet curtains from the room, overlain with a white silk bed sheet so that the red velvet spilled from under the white silk in great folds and rolls onto the ground. Chris was standing beside the table, fussing with a series of objects laid out on the white silk, when Treize walked up behind him.

"Chris?" Treize put his hand on the tweed-coated shoulder of his old college friend.

Chris jumped. "Don't sneak up on me like that." Chris said, turning around. Clutched in his left hand was a thick book bound in red leather, book marked in various places throughout its thickness. "What is it?"

"Our guests are being showered and groomed as we speak. How soon can this begin?" Treize was dressed in a long, black velvet sir-coat trimmed in sliver with matching pants, a while linen shit contrasting sharply under the night black collar of the coat.

"Nice outfit." Treize smirked at Chris. "We can't start till sunset. We got lucky though, being this close to the full moon, else we would have to wait for moonrise. So long as we have everything in order, we can start at sunset." Chris suddenly looked over his glasses at Treize. "You did say everything was in order?"

"If it was on the list you gave me two days ago, I've got it." Treize fished out a very battered page from a legal pad from a deep pocket and unfolded it, then scanned it over. "Though why on earth we need these last three items on your list I can't figure out. They aren't in any of the books you gave me to read."

"Oh, the raven feathers, vellum, and blood ink? Those are for me. I'm writing a book, you see."

Sunset came with the speed of a hound on the hunt, overtaking the day like a fox as it fled. Treize oversaw the transfer of the four guests to one of the lower floor rooms, well aware that the three young men and the young woman had been hopeless refugees in one of the camps of what was left of eastern Europe less than 48 hours ago. It was a shame, Treize thought, that the young woman had to remain untouched for the summoning, and a waste of fine flesh that she would not live through the night.

Chris had finished the laying of the inner circle around the Gundam, and with the aid of Destruction had found the exact set of enchantments to trap the demon on its birth. Destruction would be present for the summoning and imprisonment, in case something went wrong, but would have no part in the binding or summoning its self. The summoning alone was a complicated enchantment, and would be have to left to Treize, for Chris was needed to simultaneously begin work on the entrapment and binding. Any gap between the birth and the imprisonment of the demon would be moments that Epyon could use to escape. That chance of escape was foremost on Destruction's mind, especially since the summoning was in the hands of a man such as Treize.

As sunset began, Treize led the cluster of white clad refugees out into the courtyard. Each one was blindfolded, bound, and extremely terrified. Their apparent salvation had turned into yet another nightmare. The three young men were still defiant looking, but the woman, her dark hair cropped close to her head, had her head turned towards the ground, apathetic to the events beyond her blindfold. They were led into the boundary of the second circle, the one that protected the altar, and each but the first of the young men was tied to one of the small trees of the yard. The remaining young man, a youth maybe no older than eighteen, was led to stand beside the altar by Treize, where Chris waited. Chris' usual tweed jacket had been abandoned in favor of a black shirt whose sleeves were rolled up to above his elbows. He had arranged a podium beside the altar, and set up the books that would be needed for his part of the night's work.

"Hmm. Yes he will work well for finishing the casting of the inner two circles." Chris gave the items on the altar a final check, nervously running his fingers over the long, obsidian knife that was central to the arrangement. "You know, this is far out of my experience. I've maybe slaughtered a few chickens and used a few doves for auspex, but never human sacrifice."

"You're not doing the sacrifice, Chris, remember? So don't worry about whatever peril to your immortal soul you're imagining."

"My soul is long gone." Chris sighed, and handed the knife hilt first to Treize. "We are about to walk the ways of the elder gods and their madness."

But there was no further time for discussion of the implications of their actions. The sun was now completely down, and beyond the blocking walls of the building, the moon was beginning to find its way over the horizon. Destruction took his place outside the second circle, while Treize and Chris worked to secure the first young man to the altar. While not a complicated process, the completion of the second and the casting of the third required more in depth incantations and higher level ingredients, namely human blood. The collecting of the blood was a fairly simple matter, especially since Chris had provided him with a series of diagrams on the proper places to cut. The draining went with out much trouble, though the struggles of the victim nearly upset the golden bowl twice during the process, and Treize noticed that Chris flinched visibly at the initial inarticulate screams of the young man.

That finished, Chris began the closing of the second circle, walking its circumference slowly, stopping every so often to spill a small spot of blood onto the white salt outline he had sprinkled earlier. With every stop, he spoke a protective incantation, then moved on, careful to keep to the white salt path.

Treize turned his attention to the next young man. This was a more difficult matter than the previous one had been. After untying the bonds that had held him in place, Treize rolled the lifeless and blood drained body over the back of the altar, towards the looming form of the unpainted gundainium body. It hit with a sickening sound which made Chris, behind the bulk of the Gundam, wince. The next young man, having heard the muffled screams of his cohort, was much more difficult to subdue. Treize easily had a third of a meter on him, and a definate leverage advantage; thus, the struggle did not last long before he was securely fastened to the makeshift and now bloodstained altar.

Chris finished the second circle, and came to stand beside Treize. "While I'm doing this, you need to tie the girl to the Gundam, low enough you can reach her from the ground. As soon as I'm done with the third circle, begin the chant. Remember, this is an appeal to the ego of this beast. So sound convincing." Treize nodded, and Chris went to work.


	3. O Fortuna - Part Two - The Beast Arisen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sors immanis Fate - monstrous  
> et inanis, and empty,  
> rota tu volubilis, you whirling wheel,  
> status malus, you are malevolent,  
> vana salus well-being is in vain  
> semper dissolubilis, and always fades to nothing,  
> obumbrata shadowed  
> et velata and veiled  
> michi quoque niteris; you plague me too;  
> nunc per ludum now through the game  
> dorsum nudum I bring my bare back  
> fero tui sceleris. to your villainy.

(Warmth.... Darkness.... Bliss.... Peace)

Awareness of the rhythm came before anything else, a distant, regular thunder heard through ears that could only sense the vibration, not the sound. The rhythm soothed him, comforted him, and eased the searing pain that had been the entirety of existence for him until only moments ago. Where had he been then? He did not remember. All there was now was the rhythm, and the darkness, and the peace of nothingness.

(I am Epyon.... Born soon.... Mother?)

Memory returned in a flood, filling a mind of flesh and blood, rather than ether substance. He was Epyon, made flesh again, made strong again, in this forge that was a human body. Mother, maker, forge, sacrifice to him, this woman who would bring him into the world. Her flesh surrounded him, full of life, the rhythm of her heart like a tribal drum that summoned him to dance. He could feel her, feel her fear and panic, her struggles rocked him like a child in a cradle of flesh. He would be born soon.

(Mother... can you feel me? Mother...you must feed me, feed me to make me strong....)

Epyon could hear her voice now, screaming in her mind, though she had no more strength left to scream with. Such a beautiful voice, my mother, he thought, how strong she will make me. In his liquid world he turned, blindly seeking sustenance, and finding a spot he joined himself to the wall of his small world inside her, and began to feed. Oh how strong he would be when he was born.

(Oh mother, how strong I will be, when I am born to this world.... Feed me mother....)

Epyon grew quickly, feeding on the blood and flesh around him. He worked slowly, carefully, so as not to kill his mother too soon, else he would die trapped within her, small and weak. His liquid world grew smaller it seemed, and he found himself unable to turn around or even stretch, but that did not matter. What mattered was the flesh, the strength he gained from it. But it was not enough! More than flesh and blood he needed to grow strong.

(Why... oh why do they not sing for my coming, mother? Why is it so silent?)

But there, he heard them, quietly at first, voices summoning him, chanting softly. They were human voices - mortal tongues - that spoke the language of darkness in a chant to him. His name, he heard his name, over and over, the only word he knew it seemed. And there - there was more he knew there must be more. His hunger for that voice grew more than the hunger for the flesh.

(Sing for me! Tell them to sing for me! For my glory, for my power! Epyon, the Dawn Killer!)

Within his tight prison he thrashed, screaming liquid screams of hunger. He rent at the flesh around him, not caring now how much he tore free at a time, drinking the blood and swallowing the flesh as he worked his way towards the voice. Clearer he could hear it, calling him, praising him, worshiping him. Yes, he was all those things and even more, now made flesh to have his way with the world. All realms would tremble before him, Epyon the Devil of the Fire, born again! He was Bringer of the Madness, Wind of Delusion, come again, flesh again. Only he was the Prophet of Destruction, the Killer of Dreams, the names the voice called.

(I am born again, born again, born again to the flesh...I am Epyon, it sang, I am the Slayer of Dawn.)

Screaming in triumph, he felt the rush of outwards pressure as he tore through the last layers of flesh. Air filled his new lungs with fire, light blinded his hundred eyes, and he screamed at the agony of living, and the triumph of being born. His body expanded outwards, exploding with freedom, filling out its true size in a matter of seconds.

It was only when he turned to devour the remains of the woman that had born him that he found he was bound to the spot he stood.


	4. O Fortuna - Part Three - Enslaved to the Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sors salutis Fate is against me  
> et virtutis in health  
> michi nunc contraria, and virtue,  
> est affectus driven on  
> et defectus and weighted down,  
> semper in angaria. always enslaved.  
> Hac in hora So at this hour  
> sine mora without delay  
> corde pulsum tangite; pluck the vibrating strings;  
> quod per sortem since Fate  
> sternit fortem, strikes down the strong man,  
> mecum omnes plangite everyone weep with me!

"We've got it!" Chris yelled from his place outside the third circle.

The monster, and that was the only real word for it, Treize realized, screamed an unearthly scream and continued to thrash against the invisible barrier that bound it less than two meters away from his nose. Far too many limbs, each with one, two, or even three hands, thrashed against the barrier, mime-like in their motions, as great wings of blue flame beat wildly like a bird in too small a cage. Treize wanted to take a step back, better, to run screaming, but he stood his ground, eyes locked on the thing. Screaming again, the thing turned its head and met his gaze with a hundred or more gem faceted eyes, each focusing on him.

So this was Epyon, Treize thought, the monster that would give him the power of the Gundams.

"Chris! How long should this binding hold?" Treize called to his friend. He did not relish the thing suddenly breaking loose and venting all of that anger and frustration on him first.

"Another hour at the most." Chris said, and then looked at the tall, red haired man standing in the first circle. "More than long enough for Destruction to bind it to the Gundam."

"More than enough time." Destruction said coldly, his eyes fixed on Epyon.

Destruction knelt in the sandy soil of the courtyard, drawing his sword as he went down in one fluid motion. Lacing his fingers around the hilt, he brought the blade up, its sharp point facing the sky like a beacon, and he rested his head on the cold surface of the flat of the blade. Eyes half open, he could still see the writhing form of Epyon, imprisoned before him. He would only have one shot at this, as the binding would break all three circles when he set it loose.

Epyon ignored Destruction, though inwardly his mind seethed with anger at the betrayal. Never again would he trust the Endless, even in such circumstances. Screaming, he lashed out a clawed double hand at the warding around him, raking at its surface uselessly. Freedom was just beyond his reach, and this whole world his to plunder and destroy. All because of this human in front of him who had tricked him!

Treize watched the beast as it slowed its frantic motions. Whatever it was, demon, god, or whatever, it was smart enough to know when struggle was useless. Still, its long whip of a tail thrashed violently, a chain of razor edged bone that burned the ground where it touched. Its double jaws hung open, fangs as long as Treize's arm filling the mandibles, its long rasp of a tongue hung limp from the gaping wound like hole on its neck that must be its real mouth. Its legs had too many joints, each that seemed to move the wrong way, as did its wings and arms. Such a creature should be clumsy, jerky, and unable to move with any real determination, Treize thought; yet it moved like a wild cat, fluidly and gracefully. Such a thing should never exist, he thought, yet here it was before him.

Destruction's eyes were fully closed now, his jaw clenched in concentration. His sword, his symbol, the vessel of his power as one of the Endless, was clenched tightly in his hands so as not to slip from its position. The blade, pressed against his forehead, was glowing an unearthly blue white, nearly blinding. Red flames licked along the edge of the blue white glow, racing up the length of the blade, curling like claws.

"Slayer of Dawn!" He called, his voice deep with the strain of the concentration. Epyon turned slowly, its head moving a near impossible rotation to look at him. "Slayer of Dawn, Epyon, Chaos Lord - hear me!"

Epyon made an evil hiss of anger, its jaws dripping some vile fluid that hissed and smoked when it struck the ground. "Destruction, why have you betrayed me? Why would you trap me in this ward?"

"Chaos will never rule, Epyon. The time of the Elder Gods and their madness is long gone. Order must be made from the Chaos. That is the rule of the Endless."

Epyon screamed, and tried to throw its self through the ward at Destruction, but stumbled over its own body in the tight space.

"I bind you now, demon, I bind you to this machine of war. Forever will you be bound to it, until the hands of an Immortal unmake it. You are slave to its will, to its order. Be bound with in its shell, within its wires, within its core. Its body is your body, its heart is your heart." Destruction leveled his sword at Epyon, blade flat horizontal to the earth.

"Be bound!"

The blue white light vanished, and the air filled with the taste of thunder and the sound of screams, blinding green light flashed, filling the column of the ward with green fire. Epyon cried out, over and over, screaming his betrayal.

"I will not be bound! No! Not to this, not to this!" His final words echoed emptily into the night.  
Standing where the unpainted hulk of a Gundam had been stood something neither Treize nor Chris had been expecting. It was an evil reddish pink color, almost like dried blood, its form somehow hulking yet trim and fluid. It was a Gundam; no doubt, it radiated power like no other machine of war could, and not even those damned mobile dolls.

"Epyon..." Treize said softly, and his mind filled with a roar of impotent furry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Act Three


End file.
